By Scout Faller
big nose
knows where it goes
nuzzles the fuzzy dust
compiling on a pilled-up
sweater then
dives down into cat fur
pelted there like a single mass
it coughs itself all into nose,
spitting into the mouth
of the nose and out goes
a-shriek: we call this sneezing,
big nose not a show-er
butt against the rim
of the glass— no further
not asunder, cannot
explore, quite
stuck. the nose is
big and all around
it wants to make
like a hand—reach
out a little pinprick
to link pinkies with
other membranes
hot, rugged, knitted, gaseous
but it’s a lumpen mass of
cartilage, nostrils,
& blackheads,
hideously stuffed, leaking,
fretful at the faintest
spring flower. creating hunger
when there was only allums
hitting the pan, a garlicked vapor
oh nose! little breakage bicycle
wheeling about stupidly
on the face! an oily
department store pheromone
could send you
back decades. focus,
miss fabullus
because you are the one
slid up on my face
overly impressed
with lilac and whiskey
oblivious, lacking taste
even as you abet it
Scout has poetry in best buds! collective and poems forthcoming in day job and lean and loafe. They live in the low-hanging fog over ocean beach. You can find them on twitter @_husbandlesbian.
